I’m having a major relapse within a relapse.

In typical chronic fatigue fashion, a week of light walking with a day or two of rest in between has resulted in a sudden attack of post exertional malaise. My head & limbs are leaden & muscles all over my body are screaming in pain.

I’m not deterred, however. I’ve come to understand that this is just my body’s way of saying, “Not yet! Not so fast!” And I’m okay with that.

Chronic fatigue has taught me that. To listen to my body. To really, really listen & not simply rely on my brain & logic to make decisions as to what’s best for it & me.

Take my recent lesson with physical activity.

I have been taking very slow walks of no more than 30 minutes twice a day for the past week. Everything was going splendidly. I was finishing off every walk in high spirits & feeling really good & rejuvenated.

Sunday came & we decided that we would go to the Esplanade instead for a change of scenery from our neighborhood of Machans Beach. We also decided to do one full hour of walking this time, instead of splitting it up into two. I was enthusiastic about the change because I thought it would spice things up for my body a little.

It was glorious. I felt really, really good afterwards & was looking forward to my next one hour walk already.

Still, I decided to be a good girl & take the next day off, even though I didn’t feel like I needed it. I told David that I was convinced that all this walking was doing my recent relapse a whole lot of good & that I felt like I was pulling back up already.

Yesterday came round & I still decided to take it easy. I took a very slow one hour amble instead of walking at my usual pace. Felt good still after that & went to bed that night feeling normal. Well, as normal as one gets during a chronic fatigue relapse anyway.

I opened my eyes this morning & I could have cried out loud in agony. My head, torso & limbs all felt like they had massive chains of wrought iron pinning them to the mattress. I could barely breathe & just the act of opening my eyes to the daylight made me nauseous. It was a massive relapse within a relapse.

What happened?

As I struggled to keep my body upright in my chair this morning, struggling to down my mandatory morning litre of water even as I felt like throwing every last sip up, I thought hard about what I could have possibly done wrong.

I did take it slow, didn’t I?
I did remember to take days off to rest, didn’t I?
I did drink adequate amounts of water, didn’t I?
And so on & so forth.

Technically, logically, I did do everything right. However, I didn’t notice one thing.

I remember feeling this extremely vague & almost imperceptible sense of tension inside me yesterday morning. Not a physical sensation. More… an intuitive sensation, a gut feeling.

It’s hard to describe exactly but if I had to put it into words, I’d say that it felt like it was this rubber band inside me that was stretching & that it was getting close to snapping point. Or like there was this thermometer gauge within me that had mercury rising over the past couple of days & was close to hitting the red danger zone.

Yet, it was so faint, so imperceptibly background that I just didn’t know what it was at all. So I dismissed it & put it down to something transiently odd in my mood or something.

Now I know.

Thinking harder, I can now recall very similar vague sensations of tension leading up to massive relapses in the past. Each time, I noticed the warning signs but did not recognize them for what they were. A bit hard to notice something so faint when one’s entire being is consumed by severe depression & anguish. There were bigger storms that held the bulk of my attention thrall then.

These days, however, I am in a much better emotional, mental & spiritual place. I have a lot more peace within me & so, with less turbulence to distract me, I am able to piece together the signs & understand them.

It can seem almost unfair. After all, it’s barely a fair warning. A fart would have garnered more attention.

I can look at this whole thing & go:
Oh fuck. What now. Why can’t it just leave me alone? Give me some space. Am I not already trying my bloody best? Doing the right things? What more does it want?

However, I know that road & it goes nowhere but down & I ain’t interested in going back there no more.

Yes, I did do everything right, the way logic & medical guidance have suggested.
Yes, in that case, I ought not to have had a relapse because if I was doing everything right, everything should be fine, right?

Well, no, that’s not even the point.

It all boils down to:
Do I want to listen to my logic & bemoan every time I relapse?
Or do I want to learn once & for all to listen to & obey my body’s calls for what it needs?

Medical science often discounts intuitive urges. They can’t be measured. They can’t be quantified. They can’t even be proven. Listening to your body seems poor medical advice. It doesn’t have numbers on it. It can be vague.

Yet, it has been my experience this past five years that my body truly does know best.

It doesn’t communicate in words. It doesn’t even have a loud voice.

Often, it manages but mere feelings, sensations. If I’m lucky, maybe images. It is soft, gentle. It does not push or bully to get its way. Not initially anyway. Once it collapses & leaves me no choice but to do its bidding, I do feel sometimes that it can be the worse autocratic control freak bully of all!

But it is always right. It has always been right.

It is always & only those times I disregard its meek voice that I pay the price for it later with its howling.

Like my recent realization that I am also gluten intolerant.

No one told me I was gluten intolerant. In fact, I barely thought of gluten intolerance & didn’t know anything much about the condition at all.

However about nine months ago, I received the distinct sensation in my stomach that it wanted me to go gluten free. It was mild at first, then it got stronger & louder. I would find myself standing in front of the health food section in the supermarket, staring at the gluten free products on the shelf.

However, it just seemed so inconvenient & completely illogical at the time. Making that change for no good reason other than a ‘feeling’. So, though I made a couple of passing comments about it to David, in the end I decided to just put it out of my mind completely.

Six weeks ago, through trial & error, I made the definite connection between my many years of chronic irritable bowel syndrome with wheat & gluten consumption.

I was aghast. It was made worse because my reaction to wheat & gluten had become substantially worse all of a sudden over the past three months. The symptoms made me near unable to leave the toilet for large parts of the day, something I could have avoided if I had only listened to my body nine months prior.

My body knew. My brain & logic didn’t believe its only form of communication, through feelings, sensations & intuition. But it was right all along.

Listen to your body. It may take time, practice & patience.

Remember, your body is the physical extension, or counterpart, of your supreme Highest Self.

It is not merely a vehicle that carries You through this life. Not just a senseless bag of cells & hormones, not just a meat suit.

It IS You. Another part of You. And it speaks too.

Listen.

Have you had similar experiences where your body knew intuitively what it needed? Do share in the comments!

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